The oldest descriptions of the Arabs fit the Bedouins of our day. Unquenchable feuds are still dividing the several tribes, the possession of a pasturing place or of a well still determines the welfare of many families, and blood-feuds and hospitality still are the vices and virtues of this people of nature. Wherever along their frontiers the Arabs come in contact with foreign nations war is the result. The children of Abraham divided among themselves the rich and fertile countries, while Ishmael and his tribe were cast out into the desert. Shut off from all the other people the Arabs consider foreigners and foes to be identical and, unable to procure for themselves the products of industry, they believe they are justified in appropriating them wherever they find them.
The pashas of the frontier provinces repay these constant depredations with repressive measures on a big scale and are not concerned about the individuals who are made to suffer. When they saunter forth with a few regiments of regular cavalry and a field gun they are sure to scatter even the biggest ashiret or encampment. The Arab does not like to stand his ground against gun-fire and never resists an artillery-attack which he cannot of course return. He does not fear so much for his own life, as for that of his horse, for a full blooded mare often makes up the whole wealth of three or four families. Woe to the horse which with us is owned by three or four masters. With the Arabs it has as many friends to take care of it.
When the Turks succeed in surprising an ashiret they take away the herds of sheep and goats, a few camels, and possibly some hostages whom they keep in miserable bondage. In a small hut or stable of the serail of Orfa I found nine old men. A heavy chain attached to rings around their necks fastened the one to the other, and twice daily they were driven to the watering trough just like cattle. The Turks had demanded of their tribe the exorbitant ransom of 150,000 piasters, of which one third had actually been offered. When I saw the old men, there was little chance of their ever being ransomed at all. The pasha, however, promised me that he would set them free. I do not know whether he kept his word.
Such examples do not deter the Arabs, and, as far as their horses are able to go, no settlement can endure. The entire southern slope of the Taurus, the ancient Oszoene, is dotted with indications of their devastation. Here wonderful brooks are flowing from the mountains, and a superabundant supply of water, a hot and ever bright sky, and a most fertile soil have combined in creating a paradise, if only men would not always destroy it. Snow is unknown here, and olive-trees, vines, mulberry trees, palms and pomegranate trees spring up wherever you guide a stream of water, however small, while the yield of grain, rice, and cotton is phenomenal. But of Karrat, now Harran, the seat of Abraham, only a mound of earth and a few crumbled walls remain. Dara, the magnificent creation of Justinian, lies in ruins, and on the site of Nisibin, which had been completely destroyed, Hafiss-Pasha has built only recently some new cavalry barracks, under whose protection the city and the surrounding villages have taken a new lease of life. Orfa and Mossul finally, the only large cities, appear like outposts of Mesopotamia.
In their robber-expeditions the Arabs have the hope of booty before them and behind them the assurance of a safe retreat. They alone know the pasturing grounds and the hidden wells of the desert, they alone can live in these regions, and do so by the help of the camel. This animal, which can carry a load of from five hundred to six hundred pounds, takes all their property, their wives, children, and old men, their tents, provisions and water from one place to another. It can make six, eight, even ten days' marches without drinking, and a fifth stomach keeps a final draft in reserve in case of greatest need. Its hair is made into garments and cloth for the tents; its urine yields salt, its droppings are used for fuel and, in caves, are transformed into saltpeter from which the Arabs make their own gunpowder. The milk of the camel serves as food not only for the children, but also for the colts, which grow thin but strong like our horses when they are in training. Camel meat is tasty and wholesome, and even the skin and the bones of a camel are good for something. The most wretched feed, dry grass, thistles and brambles, satisfies this patient, strong, helpless and most useful of all animals. Next to the camels, which even the poorest Arab owns in almost incredible numbers, the horses represent the chief wealth of these children of the desert. It is well known that these animals grow up in the tents together with the children of the family with whom they share food, deprivations and hardships, and that the birth of a colt of fine lineage marks a day of joy in the whole ashiret.
In Europe the Arabian horses are classified according to an erroneous and incomplete system. I am thinking especially of their division into Kohilans and Nedshdis. This latter name designates the numerous tribe of Arabs inhabiting the high plateau of the interior of Arabia, and breeding, it is true, excellent horses. But just as little as every Arabian horse is full blooded, just as little every Nedshdi is a Kohilan. This is the whole matter: Kohilan was the favorite horse of Hasaret-Suleiman-Peigamber (His Highness Solomon the Prophet). It is, moreover, true and no legend that the better horses receive at birth their family-tree, in which their parents, and often their grandfathers, are mentioned, and which they carry through life, generally in a triangular capsule, by a string around their neck. In the course of centuries several of Kohilan's descendants have so greatly distinguished themselves that they have become sires of note in their own name. Among the most notable descendants of Kohilan I heard mentioned the colts of Meneghi, and next of Terafi, Djelevi, Sakali, and many more. Mahomet himself rode a Kohilan of the family of Meneghi on his flight from Medina. You understand, therefore, that not every Nedshdi has to be full-blooded, and that a Kohilan may be as well an Aenesi or Shamarly as a Nedshdi.
The Arabs of the race of Shamarr who camp in the country between the two rivers, and who can muster ten thousand mounted men, had recently been guilty of many robberies, and had refused to recognize the new sheikh whom the Porte had appointed over them. Hafiss-Pasha, therefore, decided to give them a most thorough chastisement. The pashas of Orfa and of Mardin were to march against them, and he wanted to have the pasha of Mossul, who is not under his jurisdiction, do the same. If this had been done, the Arabs would have been forced back against the Euphrates, beyond which the Aenesi Arabs live who are hostile to them. But Indshe-Bairaktar did not fancy an expedition which was expensive and promised little booty. When finally definite orders came from the Bagdad-Valesi, the other pashas had already scared away the enemy, who had disappeared into unknown regions.
After a brief and interesting sojourn, therefore, we decided to return through the desert with a caravan which was on the point of starting. Since the Arabs had been greatly incensed by the recent attacks, the expedition was increased by forty horsemen. We joined it toward evening in its encampment, about two hours from Mossul, near the Tigris where everybody wished to have one more last good fill of water. The Kyerwan-Bashi, or leader of the caravan, whom the pasha had notified of our arrival, at once made his appearance and had his tent made ready for us. He also presented us with a goat for supper.
For five days we traversed the Tsull, or desert of northern Mesopotamia, without seeing any human habitations. You must not think of this desert as a sea of sand, but as an interminable green plain with only occasional, very slight undulations. The Arabs call it Bahr, the sea, and the caravans proceed in an absolutely straight line, taking their direction from artificial mounts which rise above the plain like prehistoric graves. They indicate that once upon a time a village existed here, and that, therefore, a well or a spring must be nearby. But the mounts often are six, ten or even twelve hours distant the one from the other. The villages have disappeared, the wells have gone dry, and the rivulets are bitterly salt. A few weeks later this green plain which now is nourished by copious daily dews will be a wild waste parched by the sun. The luxuriant growth of grass which today reaches to our stirrups will be withered and every water-course run dry. Then it will be necessary to follow the Tigris in a wide détour, and none but the ships of the desert, the camels, will be able to traverse this plain, and they only by night.
Our caravan consists of six hundred camels and four hundred mules. The big bags carried by the former contain almost exclusively palm-nuts for the dye houses of Aleppo, and cotton. The more valuable part of the freight, silk from Bagdad and shawls from Persia, pearls from Bassora, and good silver money which in Constantinople will be recoined into bad piasters, is small in proportion to the bulk carried.